Christmas on the Island of Misfit Toys

We were making quite merry yesterday. In fact, we all exclaimed at some point last night that it was “The best Christmas…ever!”

I learned something about living with MS during yesterday’s festivities as well. I say learned but I likely knew about it before; putting it into practice has been my problem. The lesson learned: I don’t have to do everything for a party to be successful.

How very un-Leo, un-Type A, un-control freak, un-Trevis to make such a remark; but it seems to be true. In fact, I think we all had a better time because I shared the responsibilities of the day.

Let me backtrack. Most of you know I was classically trained as a chef. I was taught by wonderful chefs at New England Culinary Institute and mentored by one of the best chefs alive today, Michel Leborgne. I LOVE to cook and I’m good at it.

When people come to my house for a meal, it is an event and I very much enjoy taking people on something of a culinary journey. My family can attest to this from the culinary adventures we undertook on my last visit; multi-coursed nights from Italy, Spain, France and the Caribbean.

This Christmas was going to be understatedly quiet for Caryn, the dogs and I. We’d originally planned for a day of old films, classic Christmas music and my traditional Christmas goose. Then we noted a few friends without much in the way of Christmas plans.

There was one couple of friends from Switzerland with no local family. Another couple has their kitchen in the midst of a major renovation and a neighbor whose only family is in Texas and didn’t want to “bother” friends. We were all like the characters in that classic Christmas animation, “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” We were the Island of Misfit Toys, and we decided to celebrate the holiday together.

Still, we wanted our gathering to be informal, relaxing and most of all fun. Caryn insisted that this mean I not do the over the top cooking for which I can be known. I acquiesced.

I still cooked the goose and the creamed Brussels sprouts and the roasted potatoes. Everyone else, however, brought apps and starters and sides (and so many bottles of wine that my recycle bin is now overflowing just one day after the bin man collected on Monday).

The simple acts of planning and shopping and preparing food for our party made it just that: our party. I gave up some of the control (maybe even some of my need to provide for everyone) and we all had a better time for it.

I really must take this lesson into the new year and not just in terms of food. I’ve said it I don’t know how many times to others. I just need to get the message through my own thick scull; people want to help, I need to let them.

I’m not much of a New Year’s resolution kind of a guy. This, however, seems to be a concept that could be easy, fun and make life better for me and maybe more fulfilling for others. Today, I start living a life in which I accept, appreciate and (here’s the hard one for me to swallow) even ask for people to help when I need it.

So, how about it, anybody else want to make the leap with me? Anyone else have a similar experience they’d care to share with the class?

2008: The year of letting people help. And I learned it at Christmas on the Island of Misfit Toys.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trevis Gleason

Trevis L. Gleason is a food journalist and published author, an award-winning chef and culinary instructor who has taught at institutions such as Cornell University, New England Culinary Institute and...read more